


Gospel (for the Fallen Ones)

by ThoseWhoFavorFire



Series: Simply Calling Out Sins (Don't Bring You Closer to God) [3]
Category: Captain America (Movies), Daredevil (TV), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Angels and Demons AU, Archangel!Steve, Fallen!Matt, M/M, Mutual Pining, but foggy wishes it did, divine tequila gives you superpowers, drinking at the bar and cute stupids becoming friends, just kidding it doesn't
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-02
Updated: 2016-04-22
Packaged: 2018-05-30 20:20:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 8,685
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6438817
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ThoseWhoFavorFire/pseuds/ThoseWhoFavorFire
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p><em> "This is gospel for the vagabonds, Ne'er-do-wells and insufferable bastards. Confessing their apostasies, led away by imperfect impostors." </em><br/>Title Inspiration: This Is Gospel by Panic! at the Disco<br/>Matthew is a Fallen and Steve is an Archangel so they inherently shouldn't get along. However, as they run into each other time and time again, they can't help but begrudgingly become friends (and then, perhaps, develop feelings and a desire for something more).<br/>(In which there is mutual pining and a slow build of feelings)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. When They Spoke

At first, Matthew was incredibly uncomfortable and mad at Father Lantom for leaving him alone to talk to the Archangel. Sure, he _probably_ wouldn’t smite Matthew but there was always that chance that he could say something wrong that would incur Steve’s wrath. As they began talking though, he found himself relaxing into the conversation. Steve was…charming.

“What’s an Archangel doing wandering around earth and moving into shitty apartment?” Matthew found himself asking before he could stop himself.

Steve shrugged, leaning back in his chair. “Same thing I always do when I’m on Earth: I help people who are in need.”

“Last time I checked you didn’t need an apartment to do that.”

“Now, that is complicated,” Steve paused as he took a sip of his cappuccino, “What about you? How does a Fallen end up as a defense attorney in Hell’s Kitchen?”

Matthew shifted in his chair, not sure exactly how much information he was willing to divulge to this man. “Long story,” he said simply, hoping Steve would give up on it.

He didn’t. “A long story I would love to hear, perhaps somewhere else though. What do you think? Do you drink?”

It was hard to say what made him agree, but somehow Matthew found himself walking into Josie’s with Steve in the middle of the afternoon. An Archangel and a Fallen walk into a bar. He would love to hear the punchline to that joke (if only it didn’t involve him).

There were only a few grumbles from Josie about the possibility of Steve scaring off some of her regulars. All of her concerns were quickly assuaged by the angel, with his charming smile and promises that he would be a civil patron.

Josie’s was up there as one of the strangest places Matthew had been to in all of his time on Earth. It was a neutral ground, a place where angels and demons alike went and coexisted. Sure, there was the occasional fistfight which was quickly broken up, but no one wanted to risk bringing out weapons and attacking another patron. Josie’s had three rules.

  1. If a patron brings out a weapon, they will be put on probation and not served any alcohol at Josie’s discretion.
  2. If a patron attacks another patron in a way that could be fatal, the attacker will be permanently banned from Josie’s.
  3. Don’t piss Josie off. She holds the key to intoxication and wields her power mercilessly.



Most of the time the first rule alone kept everyone on their best behavior. Josie’s was the only bar in New York City that had liquor strong enough to get a divine or demonic beings intoxicated. That made her place extremely popular for beings coming from both heaven and hell. Especially for higher order angels, it was nearly impossible to really feel any effects of human alcohol without drinking truly insane amounts. It almost wasn’t worth it.

Steve took a sip of his drink, blinking in surprise. “Is this ambrosia?”

Matthew hummed in response as he took a sip of his own. “Only place possibly on the entire east coast of America to get it.”

Nodding in appreciation, Steve took another sip of his drink and savored the taste. He almost couldn’t remember the last time he had the sweet drink.

They sat like that for a while, just sitting and talking over a couple of drinks. If someone had told Matthew a week ago that he would be sitting next to an Archangel, his neighbor, drinking as much ambrosia as they could in the middle of the afternoon, he would have thought they were insane. Here they were though. His senses were so muddled by the ambrosia, he almost missed Foggy walking into the bar. Almost.

“Matt?” His friend said in confusion, looking back and forth between Matthew and Steve, “Not that I’m not all for you making new friends but, uh, why are you sitting next to Captain America in Josie’s drinking?”

Matthew coughed in surprise, “What?”

Rubbing the back of his next, Steve glanced between before settling on extending a hand out for Foggy to shake, “Steve Rogers, pleasure to make your acquaintance.”

Foggy shook his hand, seemingly a little shocked, “Foggy Nelson. Big fan.”

“Want one?” Steve asked, holding up his glass of alcohol.

Nodding, Foggy slid onto the bar stool on the other side of Matthew and waved Josie down.

“Captain America?” Matthew asked, an eyebrow raised, “Care to explain?”

Steve shrugged, “I mean, I needed an identity while I visibly helped humanity. Steve Rogers just kind of…happened. I like it though, it fits.”

“So, I’m dying to know,” Foggy piped up, “Did you actually get frozen for 70 years.”

Steve sighed, “Yes that, unfortunately, did happen.”

Matthew was a little distracted by the information that he not only lived next to an Archangel, but also Captain America. Steve and Foggy chatted as they continued to drink and Matthew tried his best to keep up with the conversation as his thoughts consumed him. On one hand, Matthew had a small voice in the back of his head that said that Steve would still get rid of him in a moment’s notice if given the opportunity. On the other hand, he couldn’t help but hope this might be his chance at salvation.

“And that was about when I realized that I probably couldn’t be killed by anything except severe physical trauma. Matt and I became friends a few years later and we’ve been friends ever since.” He tuned back into the conversation as Foggy was finishing up his explanation of his condition. Foggy had never been very good at keeping secrets, especially not after some alcohol in a place like Josie’s where everyone was either from heaven or hell and didn’t care if some random human had somehow not died in a few centuries of life.

“So you don’t age?” Steve asked in curiosity.

“Nope.”

“Huh,” Steve shrugged, taking another sip out of his drink, “I suppose I’ve heard weirder.”

“I definitely have. Take Matt here-”

“Or we could not,” Matthew interrupted, elbowing his friend in the side.

“Oh, come on. You know my deal so why can’t I know yours?” Steve complained, clearly beginning to feel the effects of the alcohol.

“Story for another night. We’ve been here several hours and definitely had a little more than enough. I think it’s time to call it a night.” Matthew stood up, helping Foggy up. Foggy might be able to drink heavenly alcohol, but it certainly affected him more than it affected Matthew or other angelic beings.

“What about our bill?” Steve asked as he got to his own feet and moved over to help Matthew support Foggy’s weight.

Matthew chuckled a little, “Josie will add it to our tab.”

Steve and Matthew managed to wave down a cab and get Foggy inside it, paying the cab driver and telling him the address of Foggy’s apartment. Despite trying to keep a straight face, neither Matthew nor Steve could keep it together when Foggy slurred something like “Divine tequila gives me superpowers.” Matthew was pretty sure even the cab driver laughed, promising him and Steve that Foggy would make it home in one piece.

Matthew turned back to Steve once the cab pulled away. “I guess it’s time to go home?”

“It’s not that far, right? We could walk.”

Matthew nodded and they set off in the direction of their apartment building. It was nice, the easy silence that fell as they walked side by side back. They would occasionally gently bump into each other, a pleasant reminder that the other was still there even if they were both deep in thought. Not that Matthew could exactly forget Steve was there. Not with the constant glow of Steve’s divine presence and the ever present smell of fire when the Archangel was present. Not smoke, _fire_. Flaming sword, divine presence, purifying light of God type of fire. It almost made Matthew dizzy when he stood so close.

When they reached their hallway, Matthew expected them to say their goodbyes so he went to his door and fumbled for his keys. Instead of saying goodbye, Steve leaned against the wall next to his own apartment door with his arms crossed.

“You know, it’s still really early.”  
Matthew turned around, forgetting his search for his keys. “Well, we couldn’t have stayed out with Foggy intoxicated and both of us on our way there. Some of us have work tomorrow morning you know.”

Steve snorted, “I go to work. What, fighting crime isn’t work?”

“Well it isn’t a 9 to 5 job.”

“9 to 5 would bore me. Believe me, I’ve tried.”

Matthew shrugged, “Some of us have to make a living.”

“Well, some of us like to eat dinner. I’m hungry so I’m cooking and I always make too much. Do you want to come over?”

Matthew couldn’t help but stand there in surprise for a moment. Captain America, an Archangel, was inviting him over to dinner? Is this what neighbors normally do? “I…would love to.” The thing that shocked him the most was that he wasn’t lying. He really did want to. He paused, remembering he had been looking for his keys. “I’ll be over in a few. I’m just going to wash up.”

“Fantastic,” Steve said, sounding happy. Matthew waited as Steve unlocked his door before managing to locate his own keys and unlock the door to his apartment. _What am I doing?_ He couldn’t help but wonder. _Archangels don’t make friends with Fallen._

Yet, as he washed up, Matthew couldn’t help but smile as he heard Steve humming and buzzing around the kitchen in the apartment across the hall. As the smell of spices and food became to overwhelm him, Matthew’s stomach growled and reminded him of just how long it had been since he last ate. So he pushed his intrusive thoughts of how bad an idea this was out of his mind and went over to Steve’s place to eat.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope everyone is enjoying, please let me know if you have any thoughts or requests in the comments! You can expect this fic to span the gap as Matthew and Steve begin to develop feelings for each other. I give you: mutual pining. This fic will leave off right before they get together.
> 
> This whole universe is getting away from me, I now have plans in the works for not only a Natasha/Clint fic series but also a Frank/Karen series in this universe because obviously I have so much free time to do that. I'm working on the next of what (I think) will be three chapters of this fic so the next update should hopefully actually come either today or tomorrow.


	2. When They Became Friends

When Steve invited Matthew over for dinner, he hadn’t expected it to become a regular thing by any stretch of the imagination. It was just a spur of the moment thing, a realization that he had a really nice day talking with Matthew and really didn’t want it to end.

Besides, he liked cooking. It was something that he didn’t do very often with all the running around he did. If he wasn’t out fighting crime with the Avengers, he was usually answering prayers or trying to find some other way to help. He discovered, for example, the best use of his time when he had a free Saturday afternoon was standing out in front of an abortion clinic and escorting women to the door. He found protesters were much less likely to mess with women when they had Captain America helping them.

Yet, Matthew had come over and eaten dinner with him. That one time turned into a second, later that week. Sometimes, when Matthew had a particularly busy day at work, he would grab takeout and invite Steve over for a couple of drinks.

It was…nice. Remarkably normal too. Well, it was for Steve at least. It was convenient, having someone that lived right across the hall to grab a meal or a few drinks with. So he didn’t think anything of it. Well, he didn’t until Natasha got involved.

“Steve, either you have been avoiding me or you have a significant other I don’t know about.”

Steve rolled his eyes, pulling up a report from the last mission on the screen, “Don’t be ridiculous, Nat. I’m not avoiding you, I’ve just been…busy.”

“Busy with who?”

“A new friend.”

“Does your new friend have a name?” She asked, pushing him aside so she could add a note in the report about the fighting style of the combatants.

Steve shook his head, “The last time I told you I made a friend you hunted them down and ended up scaring them away.”

“Hey, it’s not my fault they were a lower order angel that is apparently terrified of demons, especially ones that came out of the Red Room. How was I to know that?”

“Because you read it, in his file you got from S.H.I.E.L.D.”

Natasha laughed, turning around to face him in her roll-y chair. “They shouldn’t leave that stuff just lying around if they don’t want me to look at it.”

Leaning back in his own chair, Steve shook his head in exasperation. “Natasha, if you have to hack your way through 5 layers of security it was ‘just laying around’. In fact, it isn’t ‘just laying around’ if you have to hack your way through _any_ security.”

“Well if I didn’t hop over any security once and awhile how would I keep myself in the know with you? You don’t tell me _anything_.”

He looked at her pointedly, “So, if I talk to you about this, you _won’t_ go and scare my new friend off like you did the last one?”

“Probably not.”

He gave her another look, raising his eyebrow in expectation.

Natasha sighed, “Fine, _Fine_. I won’t harass whoever it is you’ve been spending time with so long as you go out for drinks with me tonight. Clint’s out of the country on a mission and I’m incredibly bored.”

Steve considered for a moment before nodding, “Deal.”

“Well then, go on.”

“His name is Matthew and he’s my neighbor.”

“Ah,” She said with a tilt of her head, “An neighbor in the apartment you’ve been so elusive about. Will you tell me about that as well?”

“Well,” Steve considered it with a hum, “I know a good place for drinks near my apartment. If we go there tonight you can crash at my place after.”

“Are you suggesting you’ve found a place where I can properly get intoxicated?”

“I am indeed.”

“I’m sold.”

~

Steve gave Natasha the rundown of the rules of the bar before they got there. He knew Natasha might occasionally be the type to attack first and ask questions later, so he figured giving her a heads up that attacking anyone in this particular bar would be a no-no.

He has never been so glad for a particular instance of foresight.

As soon as they entered the bar, Natasha went tense and her hand flew to her weapon. Thankfully, she seemed to have a moment of clarity and didn’t pull her gun out. Steve followed her gaze to a small blonde woman sitting at the bar.

The blonde, for her part, tensed even with her back turned under Natasha’s gaze. Within a moment, the blonde was on her feet and facing the two of them.

“ _Vasilisa_?” Natasha hissed in a low voice, her hands twitching and hovering every closer to her gun. Steve couldn’t remember the last time he had seen such a menacing look on his friend’s face and he had seen her in many combat situations.

“ _Natalya_?” The other woman spat back, “I haven’t seen you since the _last_ time you tried to kill me. When was that? Prague? Or, let’s see…Budapest?”

“If I remember correctly, it was _you_ who tried to kill _me_ in Budapest.”

“Karen?” A man spoke up next to her, looking very wary.

“Stay out of this, Foggy,” The blonde woman, who was either Vasilisa or Karen, warned.

Steve recognized the man from that one night they had gone out drinking together. Matthew was Foggy’s friend and clearly Foggy was familiar with this woman. Logic would suggest that Matthew probably knew her, maybe was even friends with her. That made him, to his own surprise, more willing to bet this was all a big misunderstanding. He stepped between the two woman, holding his hands up to show the blonde woman that he meant no harm, “Listen, I don’t know the history between you two but might I suggest that we all just go our separate ways? We were just looking to go out for a nice drink.”

“Would you really have me drink in the same bar as a Red Room assassin?” Natasha asked venomously from behind Steve.

“For your information, I got out of the game _years_ ago. What about you, Black Widow? Pride of the Red Room right here.”

Steve blinked, looking behind him at Natasha before returning his gaze to the blonde woman in front of him, “Listen, I don’t know what you’ve heard, but Natasha has been working with me for some time now. She got away from the Red Room and Hell ages ago.”

“That’s not what they told me, before I escaped. According to them you’re still working for them, just undercover.”

Natasha scoffed, “Let me at her Steve, I was always better in a fight then she was and we can always find another place to drink.”

Steve shot Natasha a look and saw Foggy trying to calm the other woman down as well. “I feel like there is a lot that has happened since the last time you guys spoke, or fought. Perhaps I can buy a round of drinks and nobody can try to kill each other tonight?” He glanced over at Natasha, expecting her response first.

“ _Fine_ ,” She grumbled, crossing her arms and walking up to the bar. She waved down Josie, ordering the “strongest drink you’ve got.”

Steve looked over to the blonde woman and Foggy, feeling the tension leave his body as they both nodded in agreement. Steve slid onto the barstool between Natasha’s and the one the blonde woman was sitting on.

“I’m Steve,” he extended a hand in greeting.

“I’m Karen,” she responded, cautiously taking his hand and shaking it.

“And I’m confused, if anyone cares,” Foggy piped up from next to her.

“As am I,” Steve admitted, looking between Karen and Natasha.

“Vasilisa-” Natasha started, immediately being cut off by the other woman.

“ _Karen_.”

Natasha cleared her throat, “Sorry, _Karen_ and I grew up together. Not exactly a happy upbringing. I mean, I doubt most children grow up trying to kill the person they sleep next to as a requirement of their training.”

Karen nodded, “There were a lot of us when we started. It’s hard to remember, we were wiped so often, but memories pop up here and there. By the time we were finished training, only five of us remained. Five young human women turned into demonic killing machines for the Red Room, for Hell.”

Natasha picked up as Karen trailed off, knocking back a shot before she did so, “You know this part already Steve. They corrupted our souls, made us stop aging and made us very hard to hurt. Improved reflexes, the whole 9 yards. For all intents and purposes, they made us demons. Just, demons with training and the benefit of being programmable.”

“But I got out,” Karen said, taking a sip of some amber liquid, “and I’m never going back.”

“Me either, I work for the other side now,” Natasha admitted, seeming to relax a little more. Steve wasn’t sure if it was the alcohol or the conversation, but either way he was relieved.

Karen blinked, “The other side? As in, heaven?”

Natasha nodded with a wry smile, “Yeah, I can barely believe it myself.”

“I’ve just been keeping my head down and laying low,” Karen said, shaking her head.

“Probably a good plan,” Steve shrugged, glancing over at Foggy as the man took a shot, “I guess you didn’t learn any lessons about limits since last time?”

Foggy smiled sheepishly, “Go big or go home?”

“Wait, you know each other?” Karen looked between Foggy and Steve in confusion.

“He’s Matthew’s new neighbor, I’ve met them out for drinks a few times,” Foggy responded, raising his newly filled glass and taking a sip.

This piqued Natasha’s interest, “You two are friends of Steve’s neighbor?”

“Well, I thought so, but evidently Matthew hasn’t felt like mentioning his new neighbor and drinking buddy to me,” Karen said, narrowing her eyes at Steve.

Natasha snorted, “Tell me about it. Steve’s been totally elusive.”

“Oh, so I’m not the only one they didn’t call when they wanted to go out drinking.”

“Oh no, I only just got Steve to tell me about where he moved and who he has been hanging out with today. I thought he might be dating someone new,” Natasha said, raising an eyebrow at Steve.

Steve coughed, taking a sip of his drink.

“Oh, so are you and Matt dating then? I swear, no one tells me anything any more.”

Foggy laughed, “Matt and Steve? I don’t think so.”

Natasha looked at Steve expectantly, “So?”

He shook his head. “Jeez, get drinks and eat dinner with someone a few times and everyone thinks your dating. Matthew and I are just friends.”

Natasha smirked, “No need to sound so defensive.”

“Oh, I can’t wait to ask Matthew about this,” Karen smiled wickedly.

Natasha glanced over at Karen, “Hey, want to get drinks again sometime without the boys? I have a feeling we have a lot to catch up on.”

“A friend and I go out weekly and you are free to join. She’s a nurse that has to put up with these idiots too, hell of a sense of humor for a literal saint.”

“I would love to, sounds like a blast.”

Steve felt like this could be something far more dangerous than any alien invasion or criminal could ever be. He sighed, swirling his drink around before deciding to just down the rest. He looked over at Karen, then back to Natasha with a sigh, “You two were ready to kill each other just a little while ago and now you are going to be drinking buddies.”

Natasha shrugged. “We learned early to adapt quickly. I think I’ve found myself a new ally.”

Foggy shook his head. “I may need another drink.”

“I concur,” Steve hummed in agreement, waving down Josie.

By the end of the night, Steve was extremely intoxicated and very grateful for that fact. It turned out that he should have appreciated the time before there were _two_ terrifying demonic women with assassin’s training to deal with in his life. They were clearly menacing individually but he expected time would prove that the pair of them would be deadly.

~

Steve found himself waking up on a Friday morning with a pretty serious hangover and a very grumpy red head on his couch. Still, as mornings go, he has had many worse. He yawned, throwing a pot of coffee on and grabbing two mugs. He glanced over at Natasha, smiling fondly. He leaned against the counter, waiting until the coffee was done and deciding whether he was too hungover to go on his morning run.

Pouring himself a cup of coffee, Steve walked out into the hall to go get his mail. As he walked back up the stairs, coffee in one hand and mail in the other, he almost ran directly into Matthew. His neighbor took a step to the side last minute, making sure they didn’t actually collide. Steve stopped, turning back around to face his neighbor. Before he could keep the thoughts out of his head, he couldn’t help but think the fitted suit certainly made Matthew look quite good. He cursed his sleep deprived, hungover mind and considered maybe taking a nap instead of going for a run.

“Sorry,” Steve mumbled, taking a sip from his coffee as Matthew turned to regard him, “I was just getting my mail and was completely in my head not paying attention.”

Matthew chuckled, “Not a problem, I’m off to work. Like I said, _some_ of us have jobs to get to.”

“I could be going to work today.”

“Yes, and I’m sure you always go to work with no shoes on and, correct me if I’m wrong, no shirt.” Matthew said nonchalantly, leaning on his walking stick.

Steve looked down, realizing that his low slung pajama pants were about the only thing he was wearing. “How did you…?”

“When you were walking it sounded like bare feet and I kind of brushed past you and might have noticed a distinct lack of fabric,” Matthew admitted, running a hand through his hair as he looked away, “So, therefore, not dressed for work.”

“You know,” Steve said with a small laugh, “You aren’t going to get me to cook for you again by antagonizing me.”

Matthew shrugged. “Hey, it’s worked for me more than once. You aren’t giving me very good motivation to _not_ antagonize you.”

“Fair point, I’ll work on that.”

“Or you could continue to give me motivation to antagonize you, I’m not complaining,” Matthew said as he turned away, “As I’ve said before, I have work to get to and now I’m late because of you.”

“I’ll order take-out tonight to make it up to you,” Steve laughed. He felt himself turn a little red as he caught himself checking Matthew out as he walked away.

“I don’t know, I’m really late. It might have to be a home cooked meal,” Matthew called back over his shoulder.

Steve shook his head, rolling his eyes a little. “I’ll see what I can do.”

Since it appeared like Steve and Natasha were both going in late, Steve headed back to his apartment with the intention of catching a little more sleep. Of course, when he got back he had an ex-assassin sitting on his couch with a cup of coffee in her hands and a knowing smile on her face. “Adorable,” she smirked, “you make him dinner. So, Steve, tell me about Matthew.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another day, another chapter. Glad I managed to finish this up before I got swept back up in schoolwork and craziness. Hope you guys enjoyed! Sorry this part only had a little of Matthew and Steve interacting, but everyone else needed to meet for the sake of plot. I love Assassin!Karen so I decided to include her in this universe. 
> 
> Next Chapter: When They Pined- You can look forward to some more interactions between Matthew and Steve as they both pine over each other. Also, some of Natasha and Karen scheming.


	3. When They Pined

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, I really meant to get this out last week but I've been busy and it's twice as long as a normal chapter of mine? See? *holds out chapter as an offering*   
> Thanks, as always, to my awesome beta Gunmetal_Crown. I wrote at least half of this while sleep deprived or in class and distracted so you have her to thank for it being grammatically sound.

“Another late night fighting as Daredevil or did you have a date with your _boyfriend_?”

Matthew froze as he heard Karen’s voice, tensing up at the word boyfriend. He took a deep breath before turning around and forcing himself to appear relaxed. “It was a good night for Daredevil. The Irish Mob was trying to reestablish themselves in the drug scene but their main operation was destroyed last night.”

“Sounds like you could have used some backup. I happen to know your boyfriend was free last night. That’s something couples do, right? Bring down major crime families.”

“Karen, you know I don’t have a boyfriend,” Matthew huffed, realizing that she wasn’t going to let the topic go until he actually addressed it. “Besides,” he grumbled, leaning against her desk with a sigh, “I wouldn’t call them a major crime family, I had it handled.”

Karen poked him in the side, Matthew wincing and leaning away instinctively. “Yeah,” she said with an exasperated sigh. “You really couldn’t have used _any_ backup.”

“I am fine, don’t be dramatic.”

“So, you aren’t sleeping with Steve Rogers? If I had a hot Archangel for a neighbor, I wouldn’t be out getting my assed kicked by some thugs alone.”

Matthew shook his head, pushing off Karen’s desk and walking to his office. “Steve is a nice guy,” Matthew said, as if that was enough explanation that Matthew wasn’t with Steve and couldn’t ever be with Steve.

“So are you,” Karen responded before Matthew was able to shut the door to his office behind him. She sighed, shaking her head as she pulled out her cellphone and texted Natasha.

_Karen: Josie’s at 6?_

_Natasha: If we get there at 5, that’s twice as many discount drinks._

_Karen: Great point, I’ll try to get off a few minutes early. I should be there by 5:15._

_Natasha: See you then._

~

When Natasha arrived at Josie’s, she looked around and didn’t see Karen. Checking her watch, it was only a few minutes after 5. The mix of patrons set her a bit on edge, but she was a little more relaxed when she noticed a few familiar faces from the night before. Meeting the gaze of Josie at the bar, Natasha smiled and approached the bar when she got the nod of approval from the bar owner. Just a minute after she got her drink, there was a gorgeous dark haired woman sliding onto the barstool next to Natasha’s.

 Waving Josie down, the woman smiled and look over at Natasha, “You wouldn’t happen to also be waiting for a pretty blonde demon, would you?”

Natasha grinned, tilting her head and taking a better look at the other woman. Natasha definitely didn’t sense any demonic presence, nor a strong divine presence. However, the woman didn’t quite come off as an average human either. “I actually am. I guess that makes you the friend Karen was talking about meeting up with.”

The woman extended a hand, “I’m Claire, Claire Temple. I suppose that makes you Natasha.”

Natasha chuckled, “What gave it away? I usually do a pretty good job at blending in.”

Josie slid a glass of scotch towards Claire, giving her a friendly nod. Noticing Natasha had finished her vodka tonic, Josie made another without even asking Natasha if she wanted more. Claire took a sip of her drink, returning her gaze to Natasha with a small smile. “Well, Karen said to be on the lookout for a drop-dead gorgeous red-head giving off demonic energy and drinking something with vodka in it,” she said, gesturing towards the vodka tonic, “and you’re the only one that fits that description from what I can tell.”

Natasha nodded slowly, taking a sip of her drink before responding, “I’ve got to know, how could you tell I’m a demon? There are angels who can’t tell that.”

“You could call it either a blessing or a curse. I’m a saint.”

“Literally?”

“Literally.”

“I think you need another drink.”

Claire smiled, shaking her head. “I can’t help but agree.”

By the time Karen arrived at Josie’s, running late because of a last minute time sensitive lead in a story she was working on, Natasha and Claire were already three drinks in and chatting like they were old friends. Karen couldn’t help but chuckle as she ordered herself two shots to catch up before settling in, swirling the straw around in her Cosmo.

“As much fun as this is, I can’t help but think you had an ulterior motive in inviting me tonight,” Natasha said, squinting her eyes at Karen suspiciously.

Karen smiled, feigning innocence. “Whatever could you mean?”

Claire shook her head, looking between Karen and Natasha. “Karen, I know that look. You are definitely up to something.”

“Well,” Karen said, a devilish glint in her eye, “I have a plan I want to discuss with you Nat.”

“And what am I doing here?” Claire asked, suddenly curious.

“We go out drinking on Fridays anyway and I value your opinion,” Karen said with a shrug.

Claire nodded, satisfied with the answer. Leaning back against the bar, she settled in to listen to whatever scheme Karen had cooked up. When making friends with Karen, she hadn’t intended on becoming the other woman’s voice of reason, but she didn’t mind.

“Well,” Natasha said, quirking an eyebrow, “What’s this plan of yours?”

~

Steve buzzed around the kitchen, glancing up at the clock and hoping that Matthew was going to be a few minutes late tonight.

After so much time on Earth, there were some things that Steve picked up that he didn’t expect to. Cooking was probably the thing he least expected to learn and enjoy. Whenever he was in a specific place for a prolonged period of time, he tried to memorize different recipes and techniques. Sometimes, it was a little frustrating. There was one when Steve realized in despair that he would never be able to quite replicate that sauce he made in Italy 200 years ago with ingredients sourced locally in a little town that no longer existed. Still, he enjoyed combining and creating, making the best dishes he could come up with based on what was on hand.

With access to the resources of New York City, there was a lot Steve could do. Steve knew that since Matthew was blind he relied heavily on his other senses. For tonight, Steve decided to make a variety of tamales for dinner. It turned out that he was only needed briefly to work on some reports. Other Avengers were out on a variety of missions, none of which he really needed to be involved in. Instead, he spent the morning doing paperwork and the late morning into early afternoon training with whoever was around the base.

He made a quick run to pick up fresh ingredients from the store. He was preparing four different varieties of tamales: cheese tamales, carnitas tamales, jalepeno and cheese tamales, and black bean tamales. It was time consuming, but definitely worth the effort. After all, Matthew would appreciate the variety of tastes and aromas. Besides, Matthew had just been complaining the other day that his favorite Mexican restaurant had been closed, so surely he would appreciate the effort Steve was making.

Steve shook his head, clearing his thoughts and reminding himself that it didn’t really _matter_. The Fallen was just a friend, someone he didn’t need to impress with fancy cooking. Matthew would only have teased him a little if he had ordered take out instead of cooking dinner. For all he knew, Matthew had been joking entirely and had other plans for the night. No, Steve reassured himself as he checked the time and finished up the food he was cooking, Matthew had come over every other time they had agreed to do dinner. This time wouldn’t be any different.

Hearing a knock on the door, Steve called, “Come in!”

When he turned around, he was met by the sight of a slightly dazed fallen angel. Steve blinked, tilting his head a little. “You okay, Matthew?”

Matthew seemed to snap out of it, smiling a bit sheepishly. “I’m fine, I just skipped lunch and I could smell your cooking from before I even got into the building.”

“Well,” Steve said, putting the plate full of tamales that he was holding down on the table in front of him, “I remembered you said you like Mexican and that place down the block closed down. Therefore: tamales.”

Shaking his head in disbelief, Matthew sat down at the table. It occurred in passing to Steve that the other man had spent enough time in his apartment the last few weeks to be able to navigate it without any assistance. “You know you didn’t actually _have_ to make me dinner, right?”

Steve sat down in the chair across from Matthew, happy that he seemed to have finally caught the Fallen by surprise for once. “Well, I was craving tamales and I made you late to work. Fair is fair and I did say I would.”

“Ah yes, can’t have an Archangel going back on his word now can we?”

“I’m good about keeping promises.”

Matthew hummed, tasting the food that Steve put in front of him. “You certainly do. I’m going to add this to the ‘perks of living across the hall from an Archangel’ list.”

Steve chuckled. “There’s a list?”

“Of course.”

It quickly became a game: Steve serving Matthew one of the kinds of tamales without telling him what it was and Matthew guessing every ingredient by taste. It was actually rather impressive, especially when Matthew decided to show off and list even the different seasonings that Steve used. It was enjoyable, almost too enjoyable. Steve felt powerless to stop himself from being more and more infatuated with the Fallen. He wanted to know all about Matthew, about his life now and how he ended up here.

So they once again spent the night eating, talking, and drinking. This wasn’t a date though. No, the warm, tingly feeling Steve got whenever Matthew was close was the alcohol’s fault. It certainly couldn’t be because he _liked_ Matthew. And, if he wanted to kiss Matthew when he left late that night, no one would ever need to know. After all, he _didn’t_ kiss Matthew and Matthew didn’t stay the night. So, it wasn’t a date.

Despite his attempts at allowing himself to live peacefully in a state of denial, the more Steve spent time with Matthew the harder it was to pretend that there really wasn’t anything more than friendship happening between them.

~

It was only a few weeks after Steve made Matthew tamales, but they had seemed to fall even deeper into a pattern of eating together several times a week. It didn’t matter if it was take out or if Steve was cooking, one way or another Matthew kept finding himself relaxing on Steve’s couch after his long days at work.

Of course, he couldn’t deny that there was a physical draw to being around Steve. He knew he shouldn’t but sometimes he just needed to be around the angel. They spent many nights drinking alcohol strong enough to get even the Archangel himself intoxicated, but Matthew didn’t even need that. Matthew was drunk on Steve’s mere presence. He cursed his hyper-perceptive senses that left him distracted even when Steve was across the hall and made him feel like he was drowning when he was in the same room as him.

Matthew, in hindsight, should have considered the physical response that Steve seemed to have in his presence. Normally, those signs were easy to pick up on, but Matthew could be excused since his senses were oversaturated by Steve being so close to him. It was harder to pick up on the little things like how Steve’s heart sped up or how warm Steve sometimes seemed to run when he was so consumed by how _close_ Steve was. A Fallen doesn’t normally get to be close to Heaven, to anything even resembling the divine. The Archangel was like a living piece of Heaven on Earth and Matthew was resigned to being satisfied with things remaining like this. Even this is more than he would have asked for.

Except, he isn’t allowed to just remain in this state of almost happiness. No, Karen would never allow for that. Once she had an idea in her head, a lead to follow, she was insufferable until she was able to crack the case.

“Matthew, all evidence points to you being _more_ then friends. You know you can tell me right? This is what friends and sleepovers are for,” Karen persisted, despite all of Matthew’s protests, to continue her line of questioning about the nature of his feelings for Steve.

Matthew hadn’t anticipated staying at Karen’s apartment. He had been patrolling as Daredevil and happened across an arms deal happening in _his_ part of the city. One thing lead to another and the end result was many unhappy arms dealers, a few lucky cops that were definitely getting a promotion and, of course, Matthew with a bullet wound (a _minor_ bullet wound, as he had put it when he came crashing into Karen’s apartment and asked to crash on her couch). Keeping late hours was something he could pretty easily explain to his neighbor, but the stumbling around with a bullet wound was something he couldn’t exactly explain if Steve happened to come over.

Nothing a good night’s rest and a few days of taking it easy couldn’t fix. Of course, he hadn’t anticipated a full interrogation from Karen about his angelic neighbor. “Karen,” he said with a sigh, running his hands over his face. “Why do you _care_?”

She scoffed, pouring him a glass of water and setting it down next to him. She had insisted on taking a look at where the bullet had grazed him, making him remove his shirt despite all protests and insistences that he was fine. She spoke as she made sure the wound was clean, “I care because you’re my idiot, self-depreciating asshole of a friend and I, despite what you may believe, do want you to be happy.”

He looked at her incredulously, making a little snort of disapproval as she insisted on tending to the wound further than he thought was entirely necessary. “And you think Steve would somehow make me happy? Or less of an asshole?”

“I think he already makes you happy and that being with him would make you even happier. You being an asshole though, that is definitely incurable.”

“So what if I like him,” he grumbled. “It isn’t like I could do anything about it.”

“There,” she said as she finished, stepping away and walking over to where the night shirt he was borrowing had been tossed aside. She threw it at his head with a sigh. “You’re welcome by the way.”

“Thank you,” he said, and he meant it. Even if he was a little distracted by thoughts of Steve, he did appreciate her letting him crash there for the night. It was nice to have people he could rely on. After it being just him for so long, having people like Karen, Foggy and Claire in his life meant a lot. Then there was Steve…

Karen sprawled on the couch next to him and, for a second, Matthew thought she might drop it. He could not have been more wrong. “Matt,” she said, her tone growing softer. “You are attracted to Steve, aren’t you?”

He almost denied it again, but he was so damn tired. It had been a long day, a long night and a long couple of weeks. So he sighed, running a hand through his hair and replied honestly. “Well, yes. Of course I’m attracted to him. Have you _seen_ him? But-”

“But what? Matt, if you like him, why are we even still having this conversation?” She said, stretching out so her legs were over Matthew’s lap and she was able to spread across the entire couch. He could tell she was getting tired.

Matthew thought about it for a minute, his sleep addled brain struggling to come up with the exact words to express why he couldn’t. “I’m a Fallen, Karen. It isn’t that simple. He’s an Archangel. Hell, he’s _the_ Archangel. Warrior Prince of Heaven. And I’m _me._ ”

“Yeah,” she said, voice low. “You are Matthew, a Fallen that loves humanity, a man who protects the innocent in court and on the streets of New York City. What would an Archangel not approve of there?”

“I’m a _Fallen_.”

“You want to be with him.”

“Yes.”

“So be with him.”

Matthew sighed, shifting her legs off his lap and moving so that he could get ready for bed. “Goodnight, Karen.”

She stood up, kissing him on the top of his head and retrieving the blanket off the chair where she had left it to give to him. Retreating to her bedroom, she paused in the doorway. “You deserve to be happy, Matt.”

“ _Goodnight_ , Karen.”

“Goodnight, Matthew.”

~

Steve never thought he would regret taking the time to groom his wings. Since they were a manifestation that he could choose whether or not to manifest, they usually didn’t need much care or attention. Still, when he had the time, he liked to take the opportunity to stretch his wings out and pamper them a bit. His apartment was a little small to wander around in with his wings out (as he discovered when he broke a vase of flowers a few weeks before), so Natasha had kindly offered her bigger apartment for him to hang out in.

He should have known that Natasha had an alternative motive. Although he adored Natasha and considered her to be one of his closest friends, he should have known better than to assume she was doing this out of the kindness of her heart.

“So,” she asked, smile playing on her features as she watched him, “How’s Matt doing?”

Steve sighed, running his fingers through his fluffy white wings. Normally this was relaxing, but not with Natasha badgering him. “Matthew is fine.”

“Did you make him dinner again?”

Steve glared at her over his ruffled wing. “Yeah, what of it?”

Natasha met his glare with a toothy smile, “You don’t make me dinner.”

“So?”

“If you just make him dinner because you’re _friends_ , I’m offended. I thought we were friends, Steve,” she said, feigning distress.

“I did too,” he grumbled. “You know we’re friends, Natasha. Eating with Matt is…convenient.”

“Admit it,” she said. She appeared uninterested, but he could see the spark of curiosity in her eye. “You are attracted to him.”

“I have a lot of attractive friends, Natasha. You’re attractive.”

“Yes, but you are _attracted_ to him.”

He made a grunt of dissatisfaction, sighing in exasperation as one of his pristine white feathers floated to the ground. He glared at her again. “Yes, Natasha, I am attracted to him. Why do you care, Nat? What does it matter?”

She rolled her eyes at him. “You are so dense. It matters because you should ask him out. You clearly care about him and you’re extremely attracted to him. What are you waiting for?”

“He isn’t interested.”

“I disagree.”

“I’m too busy.”

“Not busy enough to not eat dinner with him.” She leaned forward, narrowing her eyes. “Is it because he’s a Fallen?”

Steve blinked at her in surprise. “Of course not! Nat, you _know_ I don’t care about that.”

“Then what?”

“I’m dangerous to be with. Besides, he is definitely not interested.”

She laughed, shaking her head in disbelief. “He’s hardly a wilting damsel. He can take care of himself. We all can, despite what you believe. Would you ask him out if you knew for sure that he was attracted to you as well?”

He shrugged, going back to running his fingers through his wings with more intense concentration. “Drop it, Natasha. I don’t want to talk about it.”

“Suit yourself,” she said, standing up and grabbing her coat on the way to the door. “Well, you can’t say I didn’t try to help you.”

It was only a few hours later that Natasha came back, tossing something at his head. He had been asleep on her couch, sleeping peacefully with his wings wrapped around him, when he was woken with a start as something hit his head. Bolting up, his hand flew to his hip as if the sword that lived there for centuries was still there. Glancing around, he realized where he was and the tension fell out of his shoulders. Shooting a glare in Natasha’s direction, Steve smoothed out his ruffled feathers and picked up the object she had thrown at his head from where it had fallen on the floor. It appeared to be a voice recorder, one of the ones that reporters tended to use. He raised an eyebrow, looking back to Natasha. “Care to explain?”

“Like I said earlier, you definitely can’t say I didn’t try to help you.”

His eyes narrowed. “Natasha, what did you do?”

“Hit play.”

He did, his eyes widening as he heard the familiar voice of his neighbor come from the small device. Against his better judgement, he listened to the entire recording. Once it was finished, he listened to it two more times to make sure he had in fact heard it right. The entire time, Natasha sat there smirking at him while she sipped whatever alcoholic beverage she had poured while he was distracted.

“This was wrong; how did you get this?” he said, eyeing her warily.

She shrugged, leaning back and speaking in that smug way that reminded him that she was, in fact, still a demon. “A woman has to keep some of her secrets.”

Letting his wings disappear, Steve grabbed his jacket and headed for the door. “I need to go.”

“I’m sure you do. You and your neighbor have a lot to talk about.”

~

Matthew sat there feeling a whirlwind of emotions as Karen sat there and played a recording she had _somehow_ obtained of Steve talking to Natasha. Partially because this felt _wrong_ , to listen in to a private conversation of Steve’s, but also because he had a sinking suspicion that he might have fallen prey to the same trick. Yet, he couldn’t stop listening to it.

_“Yes, Natasha, I am attracted to him. Why do you care?”_ The small voice recorder recited for the fourth time that night. He ran his hands over his face, suddenly very tired.

He stood up and Karen stepped back, as if she wasn’t sure if he was going to yell at her or hug her. He wasn’t quite sure which he wanted to do either.

“Matt, he likes you. He is _attracted_ to you. Doesn’t this fix things?” he asked, leaning against her desk to put some distance between herself and her friend.

He shook his head, grumbling, “This only makes things _more_ complicated.”

“I think you’re wrong.”

“I think I need to go home.” He grabbed his jacket, headed out of the office. He wasn’t sure if he wanted to avoid Steve at all costs, perhaps going out as Daredevil to work out some of his frustration, or if he wanted to talk to Steve as soon as possible.

Considering he would probably only be working through his thoughts by taking it out on the closest low level thugs, he opted for returning to his apartment for the night instead.

Entering the apartment building, Matthew was too distracted by his own thoughts to notice the divine presence home strangely early on a night when Steve normally had meetings. By the time he did notice, he was already on their floor and had to make a quick decision between making a beeline for his apartment, heading back out of the building or standing there looking surprised like an idiot. Caught off guard, which was something that didn’t happen to him very often, he stood there looking mildly alarmed as Steve walked out of his apartment with purpose.

Matthew took a few steps in Steve’s direction, trying to come up with words to explain why he might have said anything that Karen could have potentially recorded. He wasn’t surprised, but he was a little bitter that their two demonic friends had decided that _this_ was a good way to get the two of them together. As if-

All trains of thought were immediately cut off by Steve’s soft lips on his own. For a moment, he was confused about what exactly was happening. Once he had regained his ability to think, he kissed back eagerly. It didn’t take long to forget where they were, standing in the middle of the hallway with Steve pressing Matthew against the nearest wall.

It was bruising, it was consuming, it was perfect. Not that that was surprising, with Steve being a literal embodiment of Heaven on Earth. When they pulled away, Matthew thanked his divine origin for his lessened need to breathe because he was pretty sure that kiss would have killed a mortal man.

Matthew felt a little dizzy, almost high on the sheer contact that he and Steve just shared. Silence hung for a second, comfortably to Matthew’s relief. Before Steve could talk, Matthew pulled him back into another kiss. This one was slower, lingering rather than fast and passionate. Pushing off the wall, Matthew led Steve over to the closest apartment door, which happened to be Steve’s. Matthew chuckled as his back hit the door, Steve pulling back slightly as Matthew turned around and fumbled to get his keys out and the door unlocked.

“You’re okay with this, right?” Steve mumbled into his neck and Matthew shivered at the warmth of his breathe.

Matthew swore under his breathe, finally getting the door unlocked. If only Steve wasn’t so _distracting_. He smirked, turning back around to kiss Steve again in response to his question. Once he pulled away for a moment, taking a few steps backward into the apartment and shutting the door behind them, he finally managed to emphatically say, “I am _more_ than okay with this” before Steve was pulling their bodies together again.

Considering it in the moment, Matthew had to admit that perhaps he could forgive Karen and Natasha’s meddling just this once.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There you have it, this piece of the series all tied up. Next fic will be a one chapter, explicit fic because sex. Anyone who isn't here for divine love making can skip to the fic after that without missing anything really important. Hope everyone enjoyed, I'll try to get the next part up this coming week, but we are approaching finals territory here in the next month (and my birthday) so I might be busy.
> 
> Up Next: If You Want to Go to Heaven (You Should Fuck Me Tonight)- Sex and divine imagery because I am shameless and irreverent. I don't have any excuse here.


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